


I'd Run Away (but I don't know how)

by Xairathan



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion, Rebuild of Evangelion | Evangelion: New Theatrical Edition
Genre: 02/09 represent, Asukyu - Freeform, F/F, Rei-Q - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xairathan/pseuds/Xairathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayanami's in denial. Asuka's angry. Gendo's a horrible role model. All's (not) right with the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Run Away (but I don't know how)

**Author's Note:**

> _So I was looking over my last fic and I've been entertaining the idea of Gendo being a horrible role model for a while. What happened was this. Major thanks to reliquiaen for beta reading._

The door hisses shut behind Asuka as she steps into Misato's office. There's a flicker of movement behind her; blonde hair, turning dark at the roots, bobbing alongside a red captain's hat, and then there's only plain grey metal. Ayanami and Mari stare at the closed door in silence, until Mari throws her arms back and stretches with a loud yawn.

"Well, that's that!" she says, bending over to touch her toes. "I bet you Katsuragi keeps her late again. I wonder what they even talk about in those meetings, anyway."

Ayanami remains silent, watching the place where Asuka vanished. She can feel Mari’s gaze on her. By now though, it’s easy to ignore. She knows Mari thinks her strange; she’s overheard plenty of instances where she’s been called child-like. All NERV programming and no real human development, that she has no concept of object permanence.

Mari’s quiet for a beat, regarding her in that odd way. "Hey, you know the Princess will probably be back in time for dinner, right? Plenty of time for you two to..." Mari wrinkles her nose. "Come to think of it, I've never really seen you talk to her. Plenty of time to not talk, then."

Ayanami's eyes flit to Mari and linger on her face for a fleeting second. It's so quick that Mari probably didn’t notice it. Or maybe Ayanami just hopes she doesn't. The glare that Ayanami gives the door is certainly more intense than before, and not even Mari is thick enough to miss it.

"Someone misses the Princess."

Still no reaction. Ayanami doesn't dare dignify such simple observations, especially not from Mari, who hasn't let up on the teasing since the first day she arrived.

"Maybe..." There’s a pause and Ayanami can practically feel the taunt coming. "Maybe someone's in _loooove_."

That gets Ayanami's attention. Her head snaps around faster than she can think to stop herself. Emotion threatens to show on her features and she does her utmost not to give Mari any more satisfaction.

Mari smiles, a Cheshire grin stretching from one side of her face to the other. "A- _ha_. Got something out of you, finally."

Ayanami's eyes narrow. She isn’t sure whether she means it to be a threat or if she’s curious. Mari clearly interprets it as the latter.

"Come on, it's _obvious_. Actually, I don't know how the Princess didn't pick up on it before- birds of a feather, I guess. You're both dense as lead. What was I saying? Oh, right. Obvious! You've been staring at her whenever she's not paying attention to you, you blush whenever she touches you, and you always wear that dopey little smile when she looks at you." Mari looks up, holding up three fingers for Ayanami to see. "Oh, and now you're waiting out here like a loyal little..." She trails off, but raises a fourth finger as an afterthought.

Silence seeps into the hall. Far beneath their feet, something in the hold shudders and creaks, sending a faint vibration through the ship. Or maybe it's Ayanami herself trembling- she wouldn't know. She merely surveys Mari with the blank expression she always keeps on, only she’s struggling to keep her face neutral; her eyes are wider and there's a tightness in her chest she can't place. Mari shrugs, splaying her hands in the air, and spins around on one heel.

"Then again, that's just my guess. I'm not really wrong about these sorts of things, though. Don't worry, I won't tell her. I'll leave that to you. Catch you at dinner!"

Mari waltzes down the corridor and slips around a corner before Ayanami finishes processing what she's said. Her mind is locked on that one phrase, four words long, that makes the cogs in her mind stutter to a stop and her limbs flood with a dreadful cold. Ayanami staggers back like an automaton with its joints rusted together, trusting the wall behind her to hold her up while she works through their one-sided conversation.

How long had it been since she'd heard that word? Love. Ayanami knows she's heard it only once before, and she can place it without difficulty. To her, the word _love_ conjures up the image of orange liquid and silver bubbles, dark glass and red lights illuminating a single metal pathway, and Commander Ikari standing before her.

_"Do you understand your purpose?" he asks._

_"I do." Ayanami hesitates, lingering at the entrance of the LCL tube. "Why are you doing this?"_

_Commander Ikari sighs. "For love," he replies. "For Yui." He falls silent, raising his head to look into the darkness above Terminal Dogma, into a portion of NERV only he is aware of- where the center of his attentions lies. "That is all you need to understand."_

_"Am I supposed to love?"_

_The question makes Gendo pause in his stride. He shouldn't be surprised by that question, but it startles him. He turns, angling his glasses so the faint lighting reflects off his lenses. The newly-awoken Ayanami type watches him work his jaw, listens to the scrape of teeth that disrupts the low humming of machinery._

_"No. There is no one for you. All you need to do is follow orders."_

_Commander Ikari departs without another word. Ayanami doesn't watch him go. Instead, she climbs into the empty tube and watches the glass cover slide up around her, watches Commander Ikari depart until the LCL pouring in rises to her eyes and she has to close them as her lungs burn-_

Ayanami winces at faded memories, ones she can't even put a time to. She knows what Asuka's reaction would be if she were there. _"You're being stupid again, Ayanami. Screw what he says! Do what you want to do!"_ Asuka's imagined voice pushes through the tangled mess of drifting thoughts. Ayanami drinks it up, but the expected upwelling of warmth she associates with Asuka doesn't come. Instead, she only feels _cold_ , the same cold she felt in Terminal Dogma and when Asuka brought her before Captain Katsuragi for the first time. She put a name to it long ago, and that name is fear.

Something clatters to the ground inside Misato's office. Asuka is shouting, only Ayanami can't make out the words, which sound so very far away, like they're coming to her through water or LCL. _Do I love her?_ Ayanami asks herself, and through the chill that surrounds her chest she feels something flutter in reply. _If I love her... why am I afraid?_

Motion returns to Ayanami. She feels her way down the hall with one hand pressed against cold metal, tracing the seams of the plates with her fingertips. This quarter of the ship is empty at this time of day; everyone is on the flight deck arranging for the transport of supplies between the fleet's vessels. Ayanami is grateful for the silence that escorts her to the crew quarters, the reassuring echo of her own footsteps that blends with the nervous beating of her heart.

It’s not until she stops in front of the room she shares with Asuka that an answer to her question sparks to life in the back of her mind. Though it’s not truly an answer. It’s more a rising tide of memories, all of them bathed in the red glow from the Doors of Guf, all of them accompanied by the distant screams of souls in agony. It is the silhouette of Gendo sitting at the control desk, hands laced across his face, lit from the glow of his lamp. Before, it was an image of command and control; now, Ayanami feels menace radiating from just his memory. It is the recollection of Gendo giving her orders without explanation, always keeping her in the dark right up until SEELE’s angry red logo took control of her EVA and the dawning realization that he never cared for her, only that she could do what he could not. Only that she was a means to an end. It is being told that all of this, all Gendo’s plans and machinations, were for some woman long dead. That all this horror was dedicated to her; and all out of love. It is the unnerving feeling of skulls crunching beneath her boots, bookmarks at the end of the world.

Ayanami’s fingers skitter on the door, struggling to get it open, drowning under the weight and pulled down by the hole forming in the pit of her stomach. When she finally manages to wrench the door aside she collapses onto the bed, a quivering heap, burying her face into the sheets and clutching her pillow tightly.

Her answer is in the things love makes a person do. It's feeling helpless and adrift, powerless and afraid. It's being broken over and over, and then reassembled into something new. It's manipulation and silence and a deep, cold darkness.

It hurt people. It brought about not one, but two Impacts. Probably more. It caused pain and emptiness.

As Ayanami tucks her nose into her pillow, she decides that it isn’t worth the cost. _The only thing that comes of love is death,_ she thinks, feeling that heaviness in her stomach lurch. _And I do not want to hurt Asuka._

She remains on the bed for a moment more, struggling to calm her pounding heart. It rattles about her chest, too painful to be contained, and aches with every attempt to soothe it. Ayanami's knees touch the pillow's edge as she curls up, breath coming in broken spurts as she rolls from one side to the other, trying to find a way to calm herself.

Her gaze falls upon a shade of red in the room and she starts, thinking for a second that Asuka's returned early from her meeting and found her in this state of disarray. But it's just Asuka's jacket, draped carelessly from the bedpost, her cat-ear hat arranged lopsidedly atop it. Everything about the display – from the way the jacket hangs with one sleeve turned inside-out to the way the ears fall flat against the cap – spells _Asuka_ , and it makes Ayanami hurt with a depth of emotion she didn't know she was capable of.

Ayanami's on her feet before she realizes she's moving. She carries her pillow in her arms, her sole possession aside from her plugsuit, and pauses at the door. Though she knows she shouldn't, she turns around, surveying Asuka's room through tear-blurred eyes. It looks exactly like it did before she arrived, with a single pillow on the bed and no signs that an Ayanami-type had taken up temporary residence there. Nothing to indicate the countless nights the two girls spent curled up next to one another, with Asuka lying on her back and Ayanami huddled at her side, unnerved by the constant drone of the _Wunder_ 's engine and the rocking of the ship in the air.

Now, the only fear that drives Ayanami is that of hurting Asuka. Wrenching her eyes away, she slaps the door sensor with the flat of her hand and slips into the hall. The door closes automatically behind her. Ayanami slumps back against it, hugging the pillow against herself. _It's better this way,_ she tells herself. _This way I won't hurt Asuka._ With a nod and one final sensation of pain lancing through her chest, she sets off down the hall, following the winding corridors to the room she'd been assigned, but never used.

* * *

As Mari predicted, Asuka isn't out of the meeting when the mess hall opens for dinner. Ayanami knows this by the simple fact that Asuka hasn't come looking for her yet. She leaves her room and heads straight there, taking the long way around in the off chance Misato does let Asuka go on time.

The mess hall is nearly empty when Ayanami arrives. A few people- engineers, by the color of their arm patches on their uniforms- sit bunched in the far corner, papers covering the table where their trays do not. Ayanami grabs her own tray and sits on the other side of the room, eating quietly as a steady trickle of personnel begin to flood in. She catches Mari and Sakura among them, the two girls chatting animatedly as they enter. Mari looks around, catching Ayanami's eye, and before Ayanami can return her gaze to her food she thinks she sees the brunette smiling mischievously.

Surprisingly, Mari leaves her alone. It's unlike Mari to pass up a chance to tease someone, especially Ayanami, but she'll take it while she can. She finishes dinner quickly, emptying her tray into the trash and heading back to the crew quarters.

It's not until she's just about to turn into Asuka's hall that Ayanami realizes her mistake. Her legs, controlled by muscle memory, have delivered her to the exact place she doesn't want to be. She stops herself just in time, but not before she glimpses red hair and a matching plugsuit. The tightness in her stomach resurfaces, threatening to make her vomit; she claps a hand to her mouth and hurries off down another corridor before Asuka can take notice of her presence.

The rest of the walk to her room is uneventful. Her room is at the very back of the ship, right under the tail section, where the building crew had added rooms that could serve as both living quarters and storage. They'd cleaned out one of the smaller ones for Ayanami to live in when she arrived, and set up a small bunk in the corner of the room. It's just as small as the shack Ayanami had in NERV- but it's home, now. Ayanami sighs and climbs onto the bed, the squeak of aged screws and mattress springs yielding to the incessant hum of the engine. It no longer bothers her, nor does the low, rumbling swing of the _Wunder_ 's tail-rudder, but there's something missing.

It takes a long moment for Ayanami to realize what she’s bothered by: the absence of Asuka's breathing. _This is the right choice,_ she thinks, pulling her bed sheets closer to her body. _She told me to do what I want to do, and this is what I want. I don't want to hurt her. I don't... so I'll have to stay away from her until these feelings die._

It's for the best.

* * *

The ambient groans and creaks of the _Wunder_ are too loud when Asuka's gone. They keep her up late into the night and wake her in the morning, far before the first light that heralds the coming dawn. Even if the light from outside doesn't reach her room, Ayanami knows it's morning from the deathly silence outside, by the stillness than hangs like dust in the air. It only feels like this in the early hours.

Footsteps ring in the hall outside Ayanami's room. She recognizes their tempo; it can only be Asuka. Panicking, she turns away from the door just as it slides open and Asuka's shadow stretches into the room ahead of her.

Ayanami's eyes are closed, but she can visualize Asuka crossing the room. The blankets gathered around her chest slide up over her shoulders, accompanied by a soft sigh. A weight settles at the foot of her bed. Asuka reaches across, plugsuit-covered fingers brushing loose strands of hair away from Ayanami's mouth. The brief touch is the warmest thing Ayanami's felt all night, and it's gone far too soon. The cold chases away Asuka's lingering touch far too soon for her liking, and it sends a pang deep into her stomach when she realizes it. Asuka sighs again, this time longer and deeper, and stands. The door snaps shut behind her as she leaves, Ayanami listening carefully to the sound of her departure. When she's sure Asuka is gone, she opens her eyes.

Yes, Asuka is no longer there, but there's something lingering in the room that reminds Ayanami of her all the same. It smells of LCL and something else she can't quite place right away. As Ayanami nuzzles into her pillow, she recognizes the scent; it's LCL and that nameless German shampoo. There's only one person on the _Wunder_ who smells of both.

A minute later, Ayanami is on her way to the infirmary, pillow dangling limply from her fingertips.

There shouldn't be anyone awake at this hour, but the infirmary lights are on, meaning Sakura's gotten to work early. Ayanami steps in silently, not waiting for Sakura to notice her, but the cheery nurse waves to her anyway and offers her a bright, "Good morning, Ayanami!"

Ayanami gives her a slow nod in return and moves toward the storage cabinets, where the spare bedding and medicine is kept. Her fingers shift on the fabric of her pillow. Maybe it’s hesitance to replace it.

"Is there something you need?" Sakura asks, setting down her clipboard. Her words are curious, but gentle. Her eyes are equally so.

Ayanami shakes her head and trudges past her, glancing only briefly at the paper, mostly disinterested; Ikari is scrawled near the top but then she’s past it and it doesn’t matter anyway. She stares at one of the cabinets for a moment before pulling the door open with more force than necessary. She stows her pillow near the top and pulls one from the middle, holding it to her face and inhaling deeply. It smells of disinfectant. This one will do.

Sakura watches all this with a quiet interest, saying nothing as Ayanami shuts the cabinet and heads for the exit. "Bye?" she says, again to no reply.

Ayanami leaves the infirmary as abruptly as she came, and with no explanation. Behind her, Sakura watches the empty doorway for a bit longer, then shrugs to herself and moves over to the computer. ‘Exchange – Ayanami – 1 Pillow’, she writes into the records, and dates it. Then, her task done, she picks her clipboard back up and resumes working.

* * *

In retrospect, Ayanami shouldn't have expected to completely avoid Asuka. They were, after all, on a ship with one mess hall and three set meal times. Even with sync tests and officer's meetings, there had to be one day they were both in the mess hall at the same time. Ayanami just didn't expect it to be so soon.

The only prelude to Asuka's arrival is the idle chattering that usually pervades the hall. She doesn't realize anything is different until Asuka is slamming her tray down on the table, hands planted on either side of it, her sole blue eye glaring directly into Ayanami's.

"So," Asuka says. Her tone is clipped, and Ayanami knows she should look away, but she can't bring herself to. "You haven't spoken to me all day. I haven't even seen you around since last night, which is saying something since you're never that far away from me unless you have to be. What's going on?"

Ayanami stares back at Asuka, hardly able to think, unwilling to breathe for fear that something small will set Asuka off. She slowly lowers her eyes to her own tray, poking at the last of her meal with her spoon. Asuka huffs, one curve of her lip tilting up into a snarl as Ayanami starts eating again, faster than before.

"Come on, at least say something. You're acting like your old self again." One of her hands clenches, and even though her knuckles are covered by a plugsuit Ayanami knows they're turning white; Asuka's fist is trembling hard enough to make the table shake. "Talk to me, Ayanami."

Ayanami swallows her last bite of food and sets her spoon neatly on her tray. She grabs it with both hands, ready to leave, only for Asuka to lunge across the table, snatching Ayanami's wrist and pinning her in place. "Fine," she hisses. "If you're going to be like that, then _clearly_ you've decided you don't need me any longer."

Asuka releases Ayanami and picks up her tray, shooting her one last look before crossing the mess hall to sit with Mari. Ayanami tries and fails to keep herself from watching Asuka depart, only standing once Asuka's seated and engaged in a very one-sided conversation with her fellow pilot. Ayanami notices Asuka keeps her blind side turned to the entrance of the mess hall, so she won't have to see Ayanami, and the thought turns her stomach. She can't seem to leave quickly enough, or think of anything that can erase the image of Asuka's disappointed glance.

Ayanami finds herself in front of her room before long, reaching for a sensor where there is none. Asuka's sensor would be there, only this isn't Asuka's room; it's her own. Ayanami wonders if Asuka reset her door so it'll only open for herself now, and maybe Mari. This room has no such security. It does have a lock, which Ayanami flips as she closes the door. Even if Asuka wants to see her again- and she doubts that very much- she can't let that happen.

As she lies on the bed, pulling her new pillow close to her, Ayanami can't help but notice the distinct smell of cleaning chemicals on the fabric. The ache in her stomach worsens, the unfamiliar scent making her head pound. She almost wishes for her old pillow back, with its comforting smell. For some reason- and Ayanami knows why- it's harder to sleep. But sleep she does, even if it takes an hour to come, and even though her bed seems colder and larger than before.

* * *

She awakes in NERV. More specifically, she awakes in Mark.09. Ayanami's barely begun to wonder how they salvaged it from the red desert after the battle in Terminal Dogma when a robotic voice addresses her. "Initiating synchronization test," it says. 

The entry plug lights up, flashing red and blue and every color in between. Ayanami closes her eyes and lets them pass over her, as she's done many times before. It's just another routine test, like the ones she does every week; in an hour she'll be free to return to her makeshift home and rest until she's given new orders.

Still, she can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

"Oxygenating LCL." Bubbles swarm toward Ayanami's face, tickling her nose, but there's no familiar sting that comes with taking LCL into her lungs. Maybe she's just used to it by now. "Enabling main view screen."

The darkness of the entry plug twists and fades away. Artificial light takes its place, mapping out in detail the metal walls of Mark.09's containment bay. The lights are on in the control room opposite it. Commander Ikari must be watching.

"Initiating first-stage connections," the voice drones. Ayanami sighs, bubbles drifting from her mouth. The first stage is always the longest, and her connection with her Unit is at its weakest here. Surely Commander Ikari will comment on this. She looks to the control room, waiting to hear his voice over the radio, but there's only silence. Ayanami frowns, looking down at her screens to check her audio settings, and freezes.

There is red on the umbilical bridge stretching across Mark.09's chest, and there shouldn't be. Ayanami lifts a hand and orders a zoom, confirming her theory. Asuka Shikinami inexplicably stands in the heart of NERV, looking defiantly up at Mark.09, as if daring its pilot to come down and face her in person. Ayanami can't help the gasp that escapes her. _"Asuka."_

Her voice is drowned out by a roar, deep and mechanical and coming from everywhere at once. Ayanami claps her hands over her ears, belatedly realizing her Unit will only do the same. Mark.09 lifts its hands, but not to its head; no. It brings one fist into the air and smashes it down onto the umbilical bridge, splitting it cleanly in two. Asuka leaps back onto the scaffolding as the rest of the bridge collapses, and races for the exit.

"No, stop!" Ayanami pleads, returning her hands to the control sticks. "Terminate connection!" Her Evangelion disobeys, ripping free of its shoulder restraints one by one, but not by tearing them. Something grows from them, white and amorphous, and as Mark.09 tilts forward to escape Ayanami glimpses one in the sides of her entry plug. The mass is shaped like a wing, with feathers protruding erratically, and Ayanami knows in an instant that she is looking at part of an Angel. A vocal humming joins the alarms echoing through the hangar, and Ayanami glances up at the roof of her entry plug in dismay. From across the room, Asuka looks on in horror at the silver halo unfolding over Mark.09's head.

Asuka's hesitance is all it takes to spur Mark.09 into action. It lurches forward unevenly, the weight of its malformed wings pulling it from side to side. A hand reaches out, even as Ayanami wills with all her might for her Evangelion to stop. Again it refuses to listen, slouching toward Asuka, who turns and runs. She can't outpace an EVA, though. One white hand slaps against the wall, destroying the stairs to the exit. A wing cleaves through the section where Asuka had been just seconds before. Mark.09 tears the remaining scaffolding from the wall, holding it like a child would hold a prize, and even though it has no teeth Ayanami senses the distinct feeling that her Unit is _leering_. She makes one final attempt to control it, pulling back on the controls and thinking _stop, stop,_ but there's no effect. Mark.09 lifts Asuka to the plating around its mouth as the LCL begins to burn, a searing heat that pierces her being and makes her want to scream, if only it hadn't scorched her voice as well.

Ayanami wakes, clutching her pillow, her breathing broken and ragged; the distinct feeling of _wrongness_ from her dream settling like a weight in her chest and making her heart hurt worse than the burning LCL had.

* * *

She must have slept again at some point, but Ayanami doesn't remember it. She wakes some time after this, when the morning stillness is settled over the ship and no one is likely to be roaming the halls. She walks them like a ghost, silently searching for something she only has a vague sense of. She retraces the paths she took on her first days aboard the _Wunder_ , when emotions were still foreign and dull and Asuka's eyes held more contempt than compassion. The emptiness she seeks eludes her, even when she journeys nearer to the engine room, the uninhabited center of the ship. It's one of the few memories of the beginning she'll allow, since it was Mari who took her there to show her Unit-01, the grave of Rei Ayanami and someone else that Mari wouldn't mention.

Ayanami hesitates at the door to the engine room. It's supposed to be locked at all times, but no one wants to go in there, no one except perhaps Mari. The door beckons to her, shining silver under the florescent lights. Maybe if she enters, something in there will purge the emotions that have grown inside her, and she'll be able to befriend Asuka again, if Asuka will allow it. She lifts her hand, fingers closing in around the handle.

Footsteps ring down the corridor. Ayanami jerks back, spinning in a half-circle as she tries to locate the source of the noise. She guesses and ducks down the center hall, covering its length in seconds and hiding out of sight behind the corner. A moment later, she hears voices.

"You hear that?" someone asks. Ayanami's stomach twists at the familiar cadence of Asuka's voice.

"Hear what?" Even from down the hall, Ayanami hears the smile in Mari's voice. She's going to taunt Asuka; Ayanami knows it. "You don't have a shadow any longer, so it can't be her. I think you're hearing things."

"I never had a shadow in the first place. Grow up, Four-eyes." Asuka storms away, her heels ringing sharply against the floor. Mari's soft giggle echoes down the hall, and then she's following after Asuka, leaving only silence behind.

Ayanami doesn't linger after this. She turns and runs the other way, not caring if anyone hears her, and doesn't stop until she's back in her room, knees tucked to her chest and begging for the touch of sleep to come and wash away the sting of guilt.

* * *

Ayanami stays in her room the rest of the day, emerging only once to eat lunch. Asuka and Mari were absent, no doubt in another sync test, but there was no relief in that: only a sinking feeling.

When the dinner bell rings, Ayanami stays in her room with her door locked, watching the ceiling light flicker. Asuka and Mari will no doubt be in the mess hall, and the last thing she wants is a confrontation like the night before. She'll skip dinner, have an early breakfast, and go back to her new routine of avoiding Asuka.

All this planning goes unneeded. Half an hour after dinner begins, there's a knock on the door. "Ayanami?" Sakura calls. "Are you awake? I brought you some food."

Ayanami rolls off her bed, landing unsteadily and moving to the door. She opens it wide enough to clearly see Sakura's face, but keeps her hand on it. Sakura makes no move to enter, holding out a dinner tray. "I noticed you didn't show up to dinner and thought you might want this."

Ayanami accepts the tray with a grateful nod, but can't bring herself to smile. "Thank you," she murmurs. "How did you know I was in this room?"

"Asuka told me." Sakura shifts from side to side, worry on her face. "She didn't do too well on her sync test today. Maybe you should go talk to her?"

Fear flares deep within Ayanami's stomach, but she keeps it from showing on her face as she shakes her head sharply. "Later," she says, stepping back from the door. "Thank you." She doesn't wait for Sakura's response, sliding the door shut and locking it quickly. The bed creaks beneath her as she sinks onto it, poking at her dinner before taking a small bite. It's tasteless, even though it shouldn't be, and Ayanami struggles to eat it. She cleans off the tray and tucks it into the corner of her room, on top of some old empty crates, so she can return it to the mess hall later. Her hunger sated, Ayanami lies back on her bed, pulling her covers over her, and tries to sleep.

She enters a comfortable drowse, drifting in and out of consciousness, when suddenly there's a banging on her door. Ayanami's eyes fly open, her pulse pounding in her ears, expecting to hear the battle stations siren at any moment. Instead she hears Asuka shout, "I know you're in there, Ayanami!" Asuka pauses, waiting for a response. When none comes, she knocks on the door again, rattling the metal frame. "I ran into Sakura bringing you food, so there's no use hiding, okay? Just... just come out and talk to me."

"I can't," Ayanami whispers, low enough so Asuka can't possibly hear her. “I can’t.”

"Look, Ayanami... if it's something I did, I'm sorry." Still nothing. "Sakura told me you went to the infirmary earlier. Are... are you sick or something? Why didn't you tell me, Ayanami? Why won't you let me help?" Another pause, and Asuka's voice grows panicked. "You're not dying, right? You... you're _not,_ right? Ayanami?" Asuka's fist collides with the door, banging against it repeatedly. "Ayanami! God damn it, we've been through this before! Let me _in_ so I can help you already! I- I hate seeing you alone like this! Ayanami, open up! Why are you _ignoring me_?"

"I don't want to." The words leave Ayanami's lips and echo off the walls, masked by the sound of Asuka's frantic pounding on the door. Her hand touches something cold, and Ayanami looks down, eyes widening when she realizes she's rested her fingers against the locking mechanism. It would be easy to open the door, to tear down the feeble walls she's put up and let Asuka in- but she can't. She can't allow herself to do that, to hurt Asuka, and so she takes her hand away. She leans against the door instead, pressing her forehead against it. It occurs to her that this will probably be the closest she'll get to Asuka for a long while, maybe ever again. For a moment she lets herself imagine Asuka knocking the door off its frame and coming in to seize her by the shoulders. At least that way, she'd get to feel Asuka's touch again.

The door stops shaking. Ayanami opens her eyes, and from the other side she hears Asuka's voice, hoarse from shouting and frayed around the edges. "What did I do wrong?" she sighs, unaware that Ayanami can hear her, but it makes no difference. Ayanami can offer no answer. After a moment, Asuka slams her hand against the door a final time and walks away. Perhaps that last sound she makes is a sob, or a figment of Ayanami's imagination; it makes no difference. Ayanami sinks to her knees in front of the door, pressing a hand to the rectangular slab of metal that stands between herself and her love, a weak cry escaping her.

She doesn't remember climbing back into bed or sleeping, but the next time Ayanami opens her eyes, her throat is dry and her pillow is damp. Through swollen eyes she locates the bottle perched near her bedside and reaches for it, gulping down water in mouthfuls. Then she closes her eyes again, and sleeps.

Little happens. If she dreams, she recalls none of it; Sakura stops by once, but her voice is muffled by a fatigue-driven haze; her door is locked, so no one disturbs her. It's not until one morning- or night, Ayanami can't tell any longer- that she reaches for her water bottle and finds it empty that she realizes she's lost a day at the least, perhaps more. A gnawing hunger has taken root in her stomach, roaring at her over her collection of raging emotions. Rising with a groan, Ayanami grabs her water bottle and the tray from Sakura's first visit and begins the agonizing walk to the mess hall.

The halls are empty when Ayanami passes through, making her think it's morning, but when she looks out the windows and sees darkness, her confusion doubles. It's not until she reaches the mess hall that she understands. Crowds of people mill around the tables, carrying both empty and full trays of food. From the smell, Ayanami guesses it's dinner. She glimpses Sakura sitting at a table, and Mari and Asuka nearby: Mari sees Ayanami and waves, but Asuka pointedly avoids looking in her direction. Her grip on her tray tightens- out of hunger, Ayanami tells herself- and she hurries off to go swap her dirty tray for a clean one.

A few minutes later, Ayanami settles into an empty table with fork in hand, staring blankly at her meal. Her hunger has given way to confusion: she's doing the right thing in pushing Asuka away, so why does it feel so... horrible? Ayanami shakes her head and shovels food into her mouth. It's flat, like she expected. Only a faint sense of self-preservation forces her to eat more.

"Ayanami?" someone asks. Ayanami looks up at Sakura, who nods at the spot next to her. "Mind if I sit?" Ayanami shrugs. Sakura smiles and sinks down beside her, propping her head up on her hand. "You look pretty tired, so I'll make this quick. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be in the infirmary, okay? I mean, it gets pretty lonely there too. It'd be nice if you dropped by. Alright?" She gives Ayanami a quick pat on the shoulder and stands, grabbing Ayanami's water bottle. "I'll go fill this for you and be on my way."

Sakura vanishes into the crowd, another blue and white uniform in a sea of identical ones. Ayanami finishes eating and waits in silence for her to return. The quiet is nothing new to her- she was born in it and lived in it, after all- but it feels _wrong_. Asuka usually fills the quiet pauses in their meals with her voice, and over time, Ayanami supposes she's become accustomed to the noise. Its sudden absence unnerves her, and when Sakura returns and hands her water bottle back, she almost drops it- and that's when she notices her hands are shaking.

The journey back to her room is a short one. Ayanami walks quickly, taking the long way around Asuka's room, and locks herself in with a filled water bottle. Only then does she allow herself to breathe easy. _What would I tell Sakura anyway?_ she thinks. _What if... what would Sakura say? Am I making the right decision?_ Ayanami shakes her head, willing that thought away. _I'm not hurting Asuka this way. I won't become like Commander Ikari._ She climbs into bed, pulling her pillow close, feeling her heart rattle within the hollow of her chest. _I’ll feel better once this is over._

_This is for the best._

* * *

Another dream visits her that night. They come more frequently now that Asuka’s gone, and Ayanami doesn’t know whether to welcome them or hate them. In her sleep, she sees Asuka walking down a hall toward her, but she stares through Ayanami, and passes her without a word. This is all that Ayanami remembers when she opens her eyes. Though it should bring her comfort, all she feels is cold. Cold that seeps into her bones, cold that doesn’t go away no matter how tightly she bunches up her blankets, cold that drives her to wander the ship in search of warmer places. Sakura’s invitation still stands. Ayanami orients toward the infirmary, letting her legs carry her without much thought as to where she goes.

The infirmary is packed by Ayanami’s standards. There must be at least twenty people standing around or sitting, and almost all of them have electronic tablets in hand. Ayanami sits in a chair beside the doorway, folding her hands in her lap. Waiting isn’t a problem. After all, she did spend the first few years of her life doing just that.

A radio crackles on the far side of the room, spitting static and an unmistakable voice. “Are we _done_ yet?” Asuka groans. Ayanami's head jerks up at the noise, caught off guard by Asuka's presence. The infirmary the one place on the _Wunder_ she actively avoids- something about making her eyepatch itch, she’d said. Ayanami is almost on her feet when she realizes her error. The far wall isn’t grey metal like she expects, but clear glass that overlooks the hangar where Unit-02 and Unit-08 are stored. Somehow, she’s ended up in the testing room.

Ayanami looks around at the small gathering- Misato and Ritsuko are there, hovering over one of the consoles. Sakura is predictably absent. The rest are people she’s seen, but never bothered to learn the names of. None of them pay her any attention. They’ve grown used to Ayanami’s silent presence during Asuka’s sync tests, and they ignore her as long as she stays quiet, which she always does.

“We’re just about finished,” Ritsuko says into a nearby microphone. “Mari, you’re holding steady. Asuka, you’re down nine points from last week.”

“I know. I know!” Something rattles in the background, probably Asuka shoving the control sticks back into place. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“We all know why you’re doing horribly, Princess.” Mari’s face pops up on the communications board, grinning widely at the small square marked with ‘02’.

“Shut up, Four-eyes.” Asuka terminates her connection with an angry growl. Mari shrugs, and her screen winks out a second later. Ritsuko sits back, rubbing her forehead, and looks up at Misato.

“She’ll still be able to pilot,” she sighs, sounding tired. “Let’s just hope NERV doesn’t decide to attack us any time soon.”

Misato shakes her head, leaning over and turning the microphone towards her. “Asuka, Mari, that’s enough. We’re not getting anything further out of you two today. I want you both in my office for a debrief. And Asuka? You're doing another test tomorrow.”

"What?" Asuka’s voice is magnified by the Evangelion, bouncing off the walls of the testing chamber as it booms. The green orbs on Unit-02's face that serve as eyes flare brightly, reminding Ayanami of the way Asuka’s eye sometimes flashes when she gets angry.

“You heard me. If your score drops any lower, I’ll be forced to put you on back-up duty. Be here. That’s an order.”

“Fine.” Unit-02 bows its head with a hiss of steam. Asuka’s entry plug shoots out of the back of its neck, spewing LCL onto the metal tiles below. Asuka climbs out soon after, wringing LCL from her hair and shooting a death glare at Unit-08. Ayanami stands and leaves as Asuka’s gaze sweeps toward the control box. She doesn't bother to announce her departure. The only one who would care about that is below, unaware of Ayanami’s presence. Even if she were, Ayanami suspected Asuka would ignore it.

This is right. This is how things should be.

Ayanami tells herself this all the way to the infirmary, where she tries the door and finds it locked. The lights are off, and there’s no movement inside. A worn sticky note hangs from the door by one corner. _Gone for meal_ is printed on it in Sakura’s neat handwriting. This isn’t right at all: breakfast shouldn’t be for another hour, at least. Ayanami’s stomach growls at her as she thinks this. What felt like several minutes in the control box must have been longer. Ayanami turns away from the closed door, taking a few steps toward the mess hall before halting.

Asuka and Mari have just finished their sync test. No doubt they’ll be getting food. Asuka’s disappointed face resurfaces in Ayanami’s mind, an unwanted reminder, and she begins to walk the other way. There’s no way she wants to run into a grumpy Asuka. Eating can wait- hunger is something she’s dealt with before at NERV, and skipping one meal won’t kill her.

Her path back to the crew quarters takes her through the lower decks. The rumble of the _Wunder_ ’s engine is more defined in the bowels of the ship, and before long Aynaami finds herself before the door leading to the engine room. The door is visibly ajar, wedged open by a small pencil the same color of the metal tiles it sits on. Ayanami tries the handle, and finds it locked into place. Her head sweeps left, then right, scanning the empty halls for signs of life. There are none- just the persistent hum of the engine rumbling through her bones. Taking a deep breath, Ayanami kicks the pencil aside and enters.

The engine room reminds her of NERV. It’s cold and dark; the only light comes from a glowing red orb mounted in the center of Unit-01’s chest. The purple and green plating has been peeled away to expose the Evangelion’s core, from which the _Wunder_ derives its power. Behind her, the door slams shut with a bang. Ayanami jumps, losing her footing, and tumbles down a staircase that she didn’t know was there.

She lands a few feet below the entrance, wincing as she opens her eyes. The gleam from the core reflects off her plugsuit, raising crimson patterns that dance across her arms and legs as she walks forward. Ayanami walks until a guard rail arrests her progress, and there she settles herself on the floor, looking up at Unit-01. From what she can see, it looks just like Unit-13.

Supposedly, Mari comes here often. Ayanami can see why. Even with the engine’s constant noise, this is the quietest place on the ship. Not in the sense of what can be heard; rather, the drone of the engine chases away all coherent thought and the gleaming core makes Ayanami want to close her eyes and _surrender_ to it.

So she crosses her legs and does just that. The burning glare is still visible even behind closed eyelids, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. She feels at peace here. Gone is the emptiness in her lungs that can't ever seen to be filled, and all her emotions along with it. There is only stillness, and Ayanami, and the Evangelion.

That is all.

And this feels right.

* * *

There are blanks in her memory, filled by dreams. Mari is in the only one Ayanami remembers, bathed in red light. Her arms are outstretched, and she’s saying something Ayanami can’t understand. They have to go somewhere, she’s certain in the way unique to dreams. Ayanami’s never dreamed of Mari before, but someone has to take Asuka’s place. Mari makes the most sense. Ayanami doesn't question it.

Mari leads Ayanami into a haze that she can’t recall. Asuka’s voice pulls her back to reality. Reality is a maze of grey corridors that spiral on infinitely. She doesn’t know where she is, or how she got here; the Wunder seems to tilt alarmingly as Ayanami attempts to situate herself, as she tries to figure out what’s happening. But she can hear footsteps, and the tempo is familiar: a match for both Asuka and the frantic beating of her heart. The realisation that Asuka is heading her way sparks action and she scrambles madly down the nearest hallway.

There is a long pause, as if the whole world is holding its breath. Asuka doesn’t sound as if she’s getting any nearer, her footsteps echoing off the walls making her progress difficult to gauge. Ayanami hears her mumbling in a ceaseless flow, anger sharpening her words. "Stupid sync ratio. Stupid Ayanami. Shouldn't have let her get to me. Should've known she'd ditch me like the others. I should've known better."

This last sentence sounds closer, much closer. Ayanami realizes far too late that she's chosen incorrectly. Asuka rounds the corner before she can begin to move away, and stops. Ayanami stares at her, holding her breath. Asuka glares at the wall somewhere past Ayanami’s right shoulder, her hands curling into fists.

Neither girl moves. Asuka glowers at the wall, her eye flickering dangerously. Ayanami is reminded of the way Unit-02’s eyes light up, and it takes all her strength to stay still. Perhaps if she doesn’t do anything, Asuka will leave her alone.

They stay this way for a long while. The swaying of the ship is the only motion between them, until at long last Asuka scoffs and turns away. Her gaze passes over Ayanami without seeing her, and she stalks down another hall and disappears. Ayanami watches her leave, starting when a hand rises into her line of sight. It takes her a moment to realize it’s her own. Her fingers stretch toward the place where Asuka stood, grasping at nothing.

“I miss you.” The words come out of nowhere and for a moment Ayanami isn’t sure who’s spoken. But she’s alone in the hallway, and while she doesn’t recognise the cracked, hoarse voice, she knows it must be hers. She’s said it. She’s said what she’s been trying to deny for a week, or more, and threatened to undo everything she’s worked toward. Asuka probably didn’t hear her, but Ayanami flees anyway, running blindly into the _Wunder_ ’s tail section.

She stumbles into her room minutes later, hands trembling too hard to turn the lock. Ayanami’s bed welcomes her, the sole source of comfort left available to her. She flings herself upon it with a quiet gasp, burying her face into her pillow, not bothering to pull the covers over herself. _This isn’t right,_ she thinks. _I don’t miss her. This is for the best. I don’t miss her. I don’t._

Ayanami’s door hisses open. She rolls onto her side, pulling her pillow between herself and the figure in the doorway. Her caution is for nothing. Asuka stands framed in shadow, resting one hand on her hip. “Asuka?” Ayanami calls, slowly getting to her feet.

Asuka rolls her eyes and waves her hand through the air. Ayanami recognizes this gesture immediately. “Don’t leave,” she begs, stumbling toward the open door. _I don’t want to be alone any longer._

Asuka is halfway down the hall when Ayanami steps out of her room. She sprints after Asuka, calling out to her, only her voice fails to work. Ayanami doubles her efforts, but Asuka doesn’t seem to get any closer. Even though Asuka walks and Ayanami runs, the distance between them grows, until Asuka is a faint red speck at the end of the impossibly long corridor and Ayanami has to stop. She doubles over, gasping for breath, and manages to choke out one last plea. “Asuka.”

Asuka doesn’t look back at Ayanami, but she does stop. Ayanami sees this and begins to run, hoping to get to Asuka before she leaves again. This time, it works: Asuka draws closer and closer, until she’s close enough to touch. Ayanami reaches for Asuka’s shoulder, and the floor drops away from below her. The _Wunder_ falls away into darkness, a cold blackness that stretches in every direction. Above her, she can see the red silhouette of Asuka watching as she plummets.

Ayanami opens her eyes, a burning sensation on her face. Her pillow is crushed against her chest, and it’s damp with what Ayanami realizes are tears. _This shouldn’t bother me,_ she thinks, even as her breathing defies her attempts to slow it. _I’m not panicking. I’m not. I’m not._ She tries to release the pillow and return to sleep, but as soon as it’s out of her arms, the feeling of dread pooled in her stomach redoubles. Ayanami snatches it up again, wondering why her room feels so much smaller, and so much more forbidding. One thing is certain: she can’t stay here any longer.

The door slides open, and Ayanami is headed for the infirmary, her pillow in tow.

The trip through the Wunder is blurred by tears that won’t stop sliding down Ayanami’s face. It’s hard to see the latch that opens the infirmary door, but Ayanami manages somehow. She steps inside, at first missing Sakura, who blends in well with the wall behind her.

Sakura turns at the sound of the footsteps, holding something in her hands. “Oh, hello- Ayanami?” Sakura drops whatever it is she’s carrying and rushes over, putting an arm around her shoulders and ushering her inside. She guides Ayanami over to a chair next to a table, gently pushing her down into it. “Stay here,” she says. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Ayanami doesn’t look up as Sakura vanishes deeper into the infirmary. Her grip tightens on her pillow, damp with tears, as she tucks it under her chin. Her breath rushes out and tickles her face with its warmth. Ayanami repeats this like a cycle, until Sakura returns with a box of tissues in one hand and a small green mug in the other.

“Here,” she says, placing both down before Ayanami. A wisp of steam drifts up from the green liquid in the mug, and Ayanami recognizes it as tea. Sakura grabs a nearby chair and sets it down, plopping onto it. “What’s wrong? Take your time.”

Ayanami shakes her head, unwilling to move her pillow away from her face so she can speak. Sakura merely smiles, patiently waiting for Ayanami to begin. She watches as Ayanami slowly tears one hand away to rest it on the table, fingertips brushing the warm mug. “It’s Asuka,” Ayanami says at last, partly muffled by the pillow. Sakura nods, her smile never wavering. When Ayanami says nothing more, she leans back against her seat and crosses her arms loosely over her chest.

“You care about Asuka a lot, don’t you?” she asks. Ayanami bobs her head slowly; that much is obvious. Sakura nods again, as if she didn’t expect anything else. “Do you… love her?” Ayanami’s hold on the pillow tightens. It flattens under her touch, and Sakura knows enough about Ayanami’s habits to tell this is a ‘yes’. “Well, that’s not unexpected. When did you realize it?”

“Mari made a joke about it.” Ayanami’s answer is more forthcoming this time, if still soft. It’s easier to speak now that her secret is out in the open.

“That’s what started this?”

Ayanami’s head jerks to the side, neither a yes nor a no. “Mari was right, but that’s not it. I… I was afraid.” Her hand closes around the mug, lifting it to her lips; an excuse for her sudden silence. Sakura doesn’t appear surprised by this.

“It’s okay to be afraid at first,” she says. Though… this has lasted a bit too long to be just that, hasn’t it?”

"I don't want to be in love!" blurts Ayanami. "All it does is hurt people. I don't want to hurt Asuka."

Ayanami's sudden outburst obviously catches Sakura off guard. She watches Ayanami lapse back into silence, sipping slowly from the mug, keeping her face buried in its warmth. It's also a convenient way to keep her gaze averted. When the mug is empty, Sakura leans forward, taking it from Ayanami with both hands. "And why do you think you'd hurt her?" she asks.

“Isn’t that what love does?” Ayanami stares at her feet, anything to avoid Sakura’s questioning gaze. “Commander Ikari loved, and… this happened.” She gestures at her surroundings with her free hand, at the metal panels welded onto the skeleton of an Angel, at the dark landscape rushing by outside the window. “Impact happened. My… original died. I don’t want this to happen. Not to Asuka.”

“Ohhh.” Sakura’s tone is one of understanding. She reaches for Ayanami’s pillow, pulling it down so she can see the other girl’s eyes. “Ayanami, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s not like that. Things like that… love doesn’t make you do them. That’s obsession. And that’s definitely not what you have.”

“What’s the difference?”

Sakura pauses, thoughts flashing across her face as she tries to put words to her explanation. “What happened to Commander Ikari, it… was twisted. Maybe once he loved that woman, but that’s not true anymore. Not really. He let the sadness of her loss consume him; he blames the Eva for her death. He’s become more obsessed with the idea of her than actually in love with her.” She hesitates again, sucking in a breath. “He’s not doing this because he loves her, Ayanami. He’s doing all this; he’s starting Impacts and destroying cities, not because he loves her, but because he never let her go.”

Slowly, Sakura rests a hand on Ayanami’s knee. “He’s driven by pain, not by love. He’s twisted all his motives to make it sound so respectable. But you love Asuka and that’s very different. You caused yourself pain because you were afraid of her suffering.” She actually smiles then, a sad little thing that begs Ayanami to understand. “You don’t want to hurt anyone. But keeping all this to yourself isn’t doing anyone any good.”

Ayanami nods, digesting this information. Her shoulders shake as she sniffles, relaxing her hold on her pillow. Sakura pats her knee and sits back, content to wait for as long as Ayanami needs.

There’s a long silence. At last, Ayanami breaks it, shifting in her seat and asking, “Should… should I tell Asuka? That I love her?”

“It’d be a good idea,” replies Sakura. “At the very least, I think she’d like to know what’s been going on these past few days.”

“Will she be mad at me?”

“I think she’ll be glad you’re speaking to her again.” Sakura stands, offering Ayanami her hand. “She misses you more than she lets on.”

“I’ll go tell her,” Ayanami says. She lets Sakura pull her up, pillow finally falling away from her face. She hesitates a moment longer before whispering, "Thank you."

"It's not a problem," Sakura murmurs, still smiling gently. "And good luck."

Ayanami exits the infirmary, giving Sakura a wave goodbye before setting off down the hall. For the first time in what feels like a very long time, she knows exactly where to go. She finds Asuka’s room in short order and waves her hand in front of the sensor. To her surprise, the door opens for her.

Asuka’s stretched out on the bed, jacket and cat hat hanging from their usual spots. She looks up as Ayanami enters, not bothering to shut the door behind her. Her eye surveys Ayanami impassively, with none of the fire that Ayanami’s grown familiar with. She swallows a nervous lump in her throat, working up the courage to speak. Even if Asuka wants nothing more to do with her, she at least deserves to know.

“I love you,” Ayanami says. There’s no prelude, no fanfare. Just three words that need to be spoken. The seconds drag on. Asuka shows no outward sign of even having heard her. Not even a slight widening of her eyes. It's so very uncharacteristic of her. Ayanami sighs quietly, not really sure what she was expecting, and turns to go. Metal creaks behind her, and a second later Asuka’s grabbing her wrist, having crossed the room in one frantic motion.

“Say that again,” orders Asuka. “Say it again, so I know you mean it.”

Ayanami hesitates, but she obeys. “I love you, Asuka.”

“If you love me, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you ignore me?” A barely-restrained anger flickers in Asuka’s voice, along with something that Ayanami’s never heard before. She looks back, and Asuka’s eye is brimming with tears that she stubbornly refuses to shed. “Well?!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Ayanami’s admission is a whisper, and it sounds quiet even to herself. “I thought if I let myself love you, I’d end up like Commander Ikari. I didn’t want that to-”

“Bullshit,” Asuka growls. Ayanami gasps as Asuka pulls her in, hugging her with a fierce desperation. “You’re nothing like him. You’ll never be like him. I don’t know why you’d think that.”

“I was afraid.” A tremor passes through Ayanami as she says this, or maybe it’s Asuka who’s shaking, or both of them. She doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. Asuka’s breath is warm against the side of her face, and she can hear the hushed intake of air as Asuka inhales.

“You’re so _stupid_ , Ayanami.”

“I know.”

“Next time something like this comes up, _tell me_.”

“I will.”

Asuka squeezes Ayanami tighter, shaking her head. “You’d better not be saying that to make me happy.”

“I’m not.”

“Stupid. Completely hopeless. What would you do without me?” Asuka leans back before Ayanami can answer, her face unreadable. For a moment, Ayanami thinks Asuka is going be angry with her. Then Asuka brushes her fingers across Ayanami’s cheek, letting her palm settle there for a moment. It’s warm, and slightly unexpected, but Ayanami welcomes it. She savors Asuka’s touch, something that’s been conspicuously absent lately. Asuka closes her eyes, and before Ayanami can ask why she’s doing that, she feels the press of lips against her cheek. Her stomach fizzles with that strange sensation she’s never been able to place. It's more pronounced this time, and at last, it feels right.

“I love you too, Ayanami.” Asuka looks up, her blue eye gleaming in the light trickling in from the hallway, and smiles. “Does… does this mean you’re coming back? That you’ll stay here with me again?”

“Of course I will. I missed sleeping next to you.” Ayanami steps closer to Asuka, raising her arms to embrace her, and pauses. Her pillow dangles from one hand, forgotten until now. “There is one thing I must do first, though.”

“What’s that?”

Ayanami loops her free hand through Asuka’s arm, meshing their fingers together. She pulls Asuka toward the door, almost laughing at her confused expression. “I need to get my pillow from the infirmary.”


End file.
